


Christmas Handcuffs

by Zeplerfer



Series: Holiday Handcuffs [2]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M, Santa spanks naughty boys, Teabagging, UKUS, USUK - Freeform, christmas porn, xxxmas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-11 19:11:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9004417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zeplerfer/pseuds/Zeplerfer
Summary: Arthur and Alfred spend their first Christmas together. With a slutty Santa outfit, handcuffs, and spanking, oh my! Two smut options: first chapter is the UKUS version, second chapter is USUK.





	1. UKUS Version

**Author's Note:**

> This is a smutty sequel to [Halloween Handcuffs](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8423326/chapters/19301056). The first and second chapters are the same story, except for a few minor alterations to change who's topping. If you prefer UKUS, read chapter one. For USUK, read chapter two.

Alfred hummed Jingle Bell Rock under his breath as he rang the doorbell to Arthur’s townhouse. He’d just reached the chorus when Arthur opened the door in a cute Christmas sweater, pajama bottoms, and fuzzy green bunny slippers. It was so different from how Alfred was used to seeing him (in a crisp uniform or well-tailored outfits) that he stopped for a moment and just stared at his warm, cozy, and _very_ huggable boyfriend.

“Wow, you look adorable,” he blurted out.

Arthur arched an eyebrow. “I think I’d prefer a different adjective.”

“Snuggly?” Alfred suggested as he stepped into the warm building and hurriedly closed the door behind him. Once he was ensconced in the warm entryway, he kicked his boots to the side, then tugged off his coat and scarf, dropping them to the floor.

“More like sexy or handsome,” Arthur replied with the hint of a smile. He leaned over and planted a kiss on Alfred’s lips after Alfred had finished removing his winter gear.

“Well, of course you’re sexy.” Alfred wrapped his arms around Arthur’s waist and pulled him closer until Arthur’s comfy wool sweater pressed against his chest. He kissed soft, chapped lips and gently slipped the tip of his tongue into Arthur’s mouth. He tasted a hint of cinnamon. “And sweet,” he added, licking his lips.

“Probably the eggnog,” Arthur said. “There’s more in the kitchen if you want.”

The promise of warm eggnog was—just barely—enough to encourage Alfred to unwrap his arms from the Englishman’s waist. He grabbed a wrapped present from the pocket of his coat and followed Arthur into the kitchen. While he waited for his boyfriend to fill their mugs from the bubbling saucepan on the stove, Alfred headed into the living room and placed the gift in front of Arthur’s small, artificial tree placed in a position of honor on the coffee table. A roaring fireplace and the lights on the tree provided the only illumination in the dim living room.

Leaning closer, Alfred could make out the tiny teapot ornaments that covered the small Christmas tree. They ranged in size and color, from a delicate white-and-blue china teapot no bigger than Alfred’s pinkie to a garish union jack colored teapot nearly as large as his fist. As he looked closer, he noticed that many teapots featured flags from various countries.

“Guess I know what to get you next year,” Alfred teased as he heard Arthur approach. He accepted his steaming mug of eggnog with a grin.

Arthur sighed. “Please don’t. My brothers have been getting them for me as a lark ever since I made the mistake of saying Mum’s teapots were pretty.”

“They must travel a lot,” Alfred remarked. He even saw one flag from Australia… or was it New Zealand? Gah, it was so hard to tell. Either way, he wanted to make sure that Arthur had a nice _American_ teapot to add to his collection.

“Yes. We’re quite the international family.” Eggnog in hand, Arthur sat down and stretched out on the soft rug in front of his antique fireplace. He glanced up at Alfred and patted the spot next to him. “Enough about them. Tonight is for us.”

Taking the invitation, Alfred plopped down beside his boyfriend. He leaned his back against the base of the antique-looking sofa and sighed in contentment. He sipped his eggnog and wiggled his stocking feet near the fire. After a chilly walk through London, the fire felt marvelous as it warmed his toes. Heat slowly spread through his entire body—possibly because of the large amount of rum Arthur had added to the eggnog. Alfred was pretty sure eggnog wasn’t supposed to have a 1:1 rum ratio, but he wasn’t going to complain. Not when warmth coiled pleasantly at the base of his stomach.

The fire popped and crackled charmingly as Alfred wrapped his arm around Arthur’s shoulders. The Englishman relaxed against his side and let Alfred shoulder most of his weight. The minutes passed in peaceful silence, a calm respite after a hectic week. Alfred glanced down and watched Arthur’s pale blond eyelashes flutter against his cheek. Even in the dim firelight, Alfred could see the dark bags beneath Arthur’s eyes.

“You wanna make it an early night?” Alfred asked, wondering if it would be better to wait until the next day to give Arthur his present.

“No, I’ll be fine,” Arthur said with a yawn. “I’m just knackered from today’s shift.”

“Got another one tomorrow?” Alfred asked after another sip of eggnog.

“No. Christmas is usually pretty quiet. I’ll be putting in my hours during the noisy New Year’s parties.”

“Uh…” Alfred flushed guiltily.

“Your neighbors can complain all they want. I wouldn’t mind a chance to swing by,” Arthur said with a low, throaty chuckle.

“Maybe at the end of your shift,” Alfred suggested.

“Why wait?” Arthur tilted his head upward and they both leaned in for a kiss.

Shifting position, Arthur climbed into Alfred’s lap. He pressed himself against Alfred’s chest and began gently nibbling on Alfred’s lip, sending a jolt of warmth down Alfred’s body that had nothing to do with the fire. Arthur sucked his way down Alfred’s neck, leaving a trail of love marks.

Finding the room warm enough to lose their clothes, Alfred reached for the hem of Arthur’s bright green wool sweater and started to lift it up.

Arthur held out a hand to stop him. “Hold on. I want to fetch your present first.”

“It can wait.” Alfred leaned in for another kiss.

“No.” Arthur pulled out of reach and stood up. “Trust me, you’ll enjoy it now. Let’s just say, I’d like to slip into something _more comfortable_.”

“But what’s comfier than nudity?” Alfred protested.

Arthur sighed. “Look, just… stay there for a few minutes.”

Alfred pouted while Arthur walked out of the living room, leaving him with just his half-drunk eggnog and the roaring fire to keep him warm. He didn’t understand why his boyfriend wanted to change clothes instead of staying with him and continuing their make-out session. If Arthur’s clothes were really that uncomfortable, Alfred was happy to remove them.

The answer came to Alfred a few minutes later when he heard the sound of stocking feet padding towards him. He turned his head to find Arthur wearing a tight red jacket with white fur trim that just barely covered the tops of his thighs. Each hand was covered in a crisp white glove. Knee-high white stockings hugged his calves and extenuated his long, sexy legs. The creamy pale gap of bare skin between the jacket and the thighs looked as enticing as vanilla ice cream. A bright red Santa hat on top of Arthur’s messy blond hair was the cherry on the handsome Christmas sundae. Arthur placed his hands on his hips and posed in his slutty Santa costume.

“Whoa,” Alfred breathed in admiration.

“I thought you’d like it,” the Englishman replied with a seductive grin. “But just so we’re clear: you do know I’m not actually Santa Claus, right?”

Alfred rolled his eyes. “Come on, that was _one_ time.”

“Twice if you count the morning after.”

“Once. The second time I was relying on drunken memories. And my problem was thinking you were in a costume when you weren’t. So I’ll be fine unless the real Santa shows up and I keep insisting that it’s just a guy in a Santa costume.”

Arthur frowned. “You know, it sounds far less stupid when you put it like that.”

“That’s right.” Alfred grinned. “Alfred F. Jones: not as stupid as he seems.” Deciding it was time to focus on more important matters, he curled his finger and gestured for Arthur to come closer to the fire. “So, sexy Santa, mind if I sit in your lap?” the American asked with a wink.

“I think I’d rather sit in yours,” Arthur replied, lowering himself gracefully onto Alfred’s lap. The feel of smooth skin against his jeans confirmed what Alfred suspected. His boyfriend wasn’t wearing any underwear beneath his slutty Santa costume. Arthur wiggled his butt and smirked. “Is that Santa’s little helper or are you just happy to see me?”

Alfred sucked in a breath and his pants tightened. “Santa’s _big_ helper is very happy to see you,” he replied in a husky voice.

“Mmm. According to my list, you’ve been a naughty, naughty boy,” Arthur whispered into Alfred’s ear. “Do you know what happens to naughty boys?”

“They… they get punished,” Alfred replied, swallowing thickly.

“That’s right.” Arthur dangled a pair of fuzzy red handcuffs in front of the American’s face. Alfred’s eyes followed the cuffs hungrily. “And how should I punish you?”

Alfred glanced around the room. “Spank me, Santa. Spank me until my cheeks are red,” he proposed, eyes resting on the dark oak coffee table. “Handcuff me to the table and then give it to me, good and hard. Tell me I’ve been a bad, bad boy.”

“Oh, my.” Arthur flushed, aroused by the detailed description. His own cock throbbed in anticipation. He crawled out of Alfred’s lap and pulled the American to his knees. Eying the thick bulge between Alfred’s legs, he moved on hands and knees to the spot behind Alfred. “Nice package, mind if I unwrap it?” Arthur asked playfully.

“All yours.” Despite the warm fire, Alfred sucked in a breath at the shock of cold air as Arthur unzipped his pants and quickly pulled them to his knees.

Testing the limits, Arthur swatted the American’s buttocks experimentally a few times. Beneath the soft skin was a layer of strong muscle. Arthur spanked him again, harder this time. The slap sent a jolt of electricity down Alfred’s spine. Pain and pleasure heightened his anticipation and ignited the fire in his veins.

“More, harder!” Alfred demanded.

“Naughty, naughty boy.” Arthur spanked him again and again until Alfred’s buttcheeks were bright red. “You deserve to be punished.” He pulled off one white glove and used it to swat Alfred’s exposed rump. “Bad… boys… get… _spanked_ ,” he added, emphasizing each word with another slap. “So bad, so naughty, so _nnnffhh_.” By the time he finished, they were both breathing heavily, drowning out the sounds of the crackling fire. After a good hard slap, Arthur gently caressed Alfred’s ass with his white glove, earning a softer moan.

“Nnnh. I’ll never learn my lesson if that’s all you got,” Alfred teased once he caught his breath. He rolled onto his back and grinned up at Arthur.

“You’re right.” Arthur crawled on top of Alfred and locked lips. He used the distraction of the kiss to pull Alfred’s hands over his head and handcuff them to the leg of the nearby coffee table. “You need to learn that if you steal a cop’s handcuffs, he’ll use them on you.”

“Yeah? And then he’ll use his thick baton,” Alfred slyly replied. He rocked his hips upward and tried to lift his butt off the floor with Arthur still straddling his hips.

Arthur plucked Alfred’s glasses from his face and set them onto the coffee table. Still painfully hard, he crawled over to the left side and grabbed a pillow from the sofa and slipped it beneath Alfred’s hips. “Now where did I put the lube?” Arthur wondered aloud. He tried to stifle a yawn and gave Alfred an apologetic smile. “Sorry, I should have thought of it earlier.”

“Maybe you should open _your_ present,” Alfred suggested with a cheeky grin. He gestured his head toward the red gift beneath Arthur’s small tree, somewhat hampered by the handcuffs binding him to the leg of the coffee table. Despite the limited mobility, his spot had one plus: an excellent view once Arthur stood above him and reached for the present. From below, he could see the way the Brit’s erect cock pressed against the jacket’s white fur trim. The idea of a Santa panty shot had never seemed more arousing in his life.

“I wonder what it could be,” Arthur deadpanned as he carefully unwrapped the gift.

“I knew the stockings wouldn’t be the only thing getting stuffed.”

“Very punny,” Arthur said with a yawn as he lifted a seasonal lube assortment out of the box and glanced down at the flavors. “So would you prefer Peppermint Pussy, Cinnamon Cock, or Gingerbread Gigolo?”

“Gingerbread, gingerbread!” Alfred shouted loud enough to wake the neighbors. Hopefully they would assume that the boys downstairs were just making cookies.

After squirting a generous dollop into his hand, Arthur bent down next to the fireplace and held out his hands to warm the lube next. As he leaned forward, the Santa jacket rode up around his waist, giving Alfred another great view of Arthur’s delectable ass. He wasn’t sure if Arthur was aware of how much he was exposing from behind.

Alfred sighed, sad that his arms were chained to the coffee table when his boyfriend’s pert bum was in easy reach. At least he still had a good view. “You know, I love your nuts roasting by an open fire,” he said slyly. “I wanna pop them in my mouth.”

Arthur glanced over his shoulder with an aroused look. “That could be arranged.” He stood up and walked over to Alfred’s head, standing with one leg on each side. Taking care not to get the lube onto the furniture, he squatted until his candy cane and shaved chestnuts were nearly within Alfred’s reach.

The American stretched his head upward and stuck out his tongue to lick the salty nuts. He caressed the balls with his mouth one at a time, licking harder as Arthur gasped and moaned wantonly above him.

“I… I think I’m ready,” Arthur gasped out, trying desperately to maintain control. He climbed back to his feet and walked somewhat unsteadily to the spot between Alfred’s spread legs. There, he knelt down and prepared his most commanding copper voice. He was ready, but Alfred wasn’t. Not yet.

“You have the right to remain sexy,” Arthur said as he slipped a slick finger into Alfred’s body, drawing an eager, blissful groan. “Anything you touch, can and will be held against you.” He moved the finger back and forth and added another. “Any moans and screams will be admitted to my dreams and replayed for maximum wanking value. You have the right to lots of lube. If you don’t have lube, lube will be provided to you.”

With his arms still pulled above his head, Alfred snorted, a sound that turned into a cry of pleasure as Arthur added a third finger and hit Alfred’s prostrate.

“Oh, god!” Writhing against his handcuffs, Alfred arched upward.

Arthur paused a moment to admire the beautiful sight below him—Alfred’s flushed cheeks and fluttering eyelashes. A thin sheen of sweat created by the combination of the fire and exertion coated the other man’s golden skin.

Even in his blissed out state, Alfred managed to give Arthur a cocky smile. “C’mon down my chimney, Santa baby.”

“Hmm, I’d rather use the back door.” Arthur raised the hem of his fuzzy red jacket and slathered his cock with the rest of the lube. Fully prepped, he hefted Alfred’s legs over his shoulders and pressed his erect cock into Alfred’s exposed entrance.

“Fuck, yes!” Alfred shouted as Arthur thrust in.

“Ooh.” Arthur moaned. He strained against the warm, tight walls that pressed against every sensitive centimeter of his painfully aroused cock. He picked up the pace and Alfred increased the volume, shouting his pleasure to the ceiling with each thrust.

“Ah… Arthur!” Straining against the cuffs, Alfred arched his hips to meet the thrust and bring Arthur even deeper. The thick cock filled him completely, setting every nerve on fire. He lost himself to the mindless pleasure of meeting Arthur’s thrusts and screaming his boyfriend’s name.

They came together in a glorious cacophony of moans and pleasure-filled cries. Arthur let himself collapse onto the rug in a boneless heap next to Alfred. For his part, the American lay still and panted heavily as he caught his breath.

“That was… _amazing_ ,” Alfred gasped between breaths.

“Mmm,” Arthur agreed, eyes fluttering shut in a satiated haze.

“Hey.” Alfred wiggled closer to Arthur and nudged the Brit with his hip. “No falling asleep until you’ve uncuffed me.”

“I don’t think that’s even a word,” Arthur murmured drowsily.

“What, are you the language police now?” Alfred tossed one leg across Arthur’s thighs. “Either way. You’re not moving until I do.”

“Okay.” Arthur yawned and made no effort to move. He was quite comfortable sprawled out on the rug in front of the fire with his furry red Santa jacket hiked up around his waist. The warmth seeped into his skin, relaxing him further. “They have a safety release on the side, you know,” he added with another yawn.

“Oh.” Alfred wriggled his fingers along the edge of the handcuffs and found a small button. He unlocked the left cuff first and then easily undid the right one. Tossing the furry handcuffs aside, he pulled his pants up from around his knees, then rolled over and wrapped his arms around his boyfriend. Arthur curled up against him and sighed contentedly.

Seconds later, the sound of a ringing phone jolted them both out of their peaceful reverie.

Alfred snuggled closer. “Ignore it.”

“I can’t. That’s my work phone.” Regretfully leaving the warmth of his boyfriend and the fire, Arthur climbed to his feet and hurried to fetch his phone from his work bag before it finished ringing. “Arthur here,” he answered. He listened for a moment and added, “Yes, I’m home.”

Alfred couldn’t hear the voice on the other end of the line, but as the conversation continued, he could see Arthur’s cheeks flush red with humiliation.

“Oh. Oh, I see. Yes, I understand. No, it won’t happen again, sir.” Cheeks stained a bright red, Arthur returned the phone to his bag. He took a few steps further and plopped down on the sofa next to the fire, giving Alfred a sheepish look. “Apparently my neighbors called in with a noise complaint about _me_.”

Alfred whistled. “Now look who’s being the naughty one.”

“I’m pretty sure _you_ were the source of most of the noise.”

“Yeah, but you’re the reason I was screaming in pleasure.”

“Well, that’s…” Flushing an even brighter red, Arthur reached out a hand to Alfred and helped pull him to his feet. “Come on. The bedroom is further away from the neighbors.” He turned off the gas to the fire and they walked hand-in-hand out of the dimly lit room.

Once in the bedroom, Alfred spotted the furry red trousers that _should_ have gone with Arthur’s Santa outfit and grinned. If Santa was going to ‘punish’ the naughty, well, two could play at that game. He held back and stripped off his clothes as Arthur plopped down onto the bed. By the time Alfred finished undressing, he could already hear snoring. Exhausted from his earlier shift, Arthur had fallen asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

Smiling fondly, Alfred lifted the Santa hat off Arthur’s head and tucked him beneath the blankets. Before he joined his boyfriend, however, he went back to the living room to gather the rest of his supplies for Arthur’s Christmas morning surprise…

* * *

Arthur woke up feeling relaxed and refreshed. He stretched his arms over his head. On that peaceful Christmas morning, it took him a few moments to realize something was missing. The other side of the bed was cold and empty when it was supposed to be filled with a handsome, sleeping American. Arthur sat up and glanced around in confusion. He’d only made it a few steps away from the bed before Alfred stepped into the bedroom and posed in the doorway with a bright smile on his face. He wore red Santa pants with white furry trim that fit snugly around his waist. Above them, a thin line of golden hair led to an amazing tanned six-pack. With a Santa hat covering his golden hair, Alfred swung the pair of furry red handcuffs around his finger and smirked at Arthur. “About time, sleepyhead. I’ve been waiting to give you your present.”

“Is the present sex?”

“ _Maybe_.” Alfred grinned and strode over to Arthur’s side. “But I don’t know if I should. I heard you were a naughty boy last night.”

A thrill ran up Arthur’s spine as he caught the gleam in Alfred’s eyes. More visions of handcuffs and spankings danced in his head. “Do your worst, Santa,” he dared.

Alfred wrapped his arms around Arthur and dipped him, smooching his boyfriend breathless until the Englishman’s knees almost buckled from the demanding kiss. Pulling Arthur back to his feet in a dizzying motion, Alfred let Arthur sprawl against his chest and moved backwards until his knees pressed against the bed. He sat down and tugged Arthur over his knees. As Arthur fell forward, the Santa jacket he was still wearing from the night before hiked up around his waist, exposing his pale, pert buttocks. With Arthur still dazed and distracted, Alfred pulled the Brit’s arms behind his back and locked them together with the furry handcuffs.

“Oooh,” Arthur moaned, dropping his head and wiggling forward until his ass stuck straight up into the air.

Alfred stroked his boyfriend’s beautiful ass and then gave it a good, hard smack. Arthur grunted in pleasure and he repeated the motion, aiming from the sensitive spot where Arthur’s buttocks met the top of his thighs. Arthur gasped and then sighed in bliss. With tender strokes, Alfred caressed his lover’s ass. It felt so nice. So soft and smooth. He hit it again, enjoying the way Arthur’s butt began turning as bright red as his embarrassed cheeks.

“With a butt this red, I’d never have trouble finding my way,” Alfred teased.

Alfred was ready to keep spanking, but Arthur had other ideas. With a flick of Arthur’s wrists and a click, the handcuffs tumbled to the floor. Bringing his freed arms to the front, Arthur launched himself off Alfred’s knees and pinned the American onto the bed.

“You think I don’t know how to get out of a pair of handcuffs?” Arthur asked with a smirk. “Now bite that pillow, because you have the right to remain silent.”

Legs still dangling over the edge of the bed, Alfred rolled over and planted his face into the downy soft pillow. He heard Arthur fumble for the lube that Alfred had helpfully placed on the nightstand the night before. Arthur pulled down his pants and begin prepping him with a warm, slick finger. The scent of peppermint filled the air. After the previous night, it took only a few moments before Alfred was ready for Arthur’s thick cock again.

At the first thrust, Alfred cried out in pleasure, voice muffled by the pillow. He gasped and quivered with delight as Arthur thrust back and forth. Each time the cock hit his prostrate, he reached dizzying new heights of pleasure. With a final, muffled scream, Alfred came into the sheets. Riding a blissful high, he felt Arthur flop down beside him. Each still wearing half of a Santa suit, they relaxed on the bed and caught their breath.

Alfred rolled onto his side and grinned at his boyfriend.

“You know, I think we should do this every holiday.”


	2. USUK Version

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Same story, but USUK.

Alfred hummed Jingle Bell Rock under his breath as he rang the doorbell to Arthur’s townhouse. He’d just reached the chorus when Arthur opened the door in a cute Christmas sweater, pajama bottoms, and fuzzy green bunny slippers. It was so different from how Alfred was used to seeing him (in a crisp uniform or well-tailored outfits) that he stopped for a moment and just stared at his warm, cozy, and _very_ huggable boyfriend.

“Wow, you look adorable,” he blurted out.

Arthur arched an eyebrow. “I think I’d prefer a different adjective.”

“Snuggly?” Alfred suggested as he stepped into the warm building and hurriedly closed the door behind him. Once he was ensconced in the warm entryway, he kicked his boots to the side, then tugged off his coat and scarf, dropping them to the floor.

“More like sexy or handsome,” Arthur replied with the hint of a smile. He leaned over and planted a kiss on Alfred’s lips after Alfred had finished removing his winter gear.

“Well, of course you’re sexy.” Alfred wrapped his arms around Arthur’s waist and pulled him closer until Arthur’s comfy wool sweater pressed against his chest. He kissed soft, chapped lips and gently slipped the tip of his tongue into Arthur’s mouth. He tasted a hint of cinnamon. “And sweet,” he added, licking his lips.

“Probably the eggnog,” Arthur said. “There’s more in the kitchen if you want.”

The promise of warm eggnog was—just barely—enough to encourage Alfred to unwrap his arms from the Englishman’s waist. He grabbed a wrapped present from the pocket of his coat and followed Arthur into the kitchen. While he waited for his boyfriend to fill their mugs from the bubbling saucepan on the stove, Alfred headed into the living room and placed the gift in front of Arthur’s small, artificial tree placed in a position of honor on the coffee table. A roaring fireplace and the lights on the tree provided the only illumination in the dim living room.

Leaning closer, Alfred could make out the tiny teapot ornaments that covered the small Christmas tree. They ranged in size and color, from a delicate white-and-blue china teapot no bigger than Alfred’s pinkie to a garish union jack colored teapot nearly as large as his fist. As he looked closer, he noticed that many teapots featured flags from various countries.

“Guess I know what to get you next year,” Alfred teased as he heard Arthur approach. He accepted his steaming mug of eggnog with a grin.

Arthur sighed. “Please don’t. My brothers have been getting them for me as a lark ever since I made the mistake of saying Mum’s teapots were pretty.”

“They must travel a lot,” Alfred remarked. He even saw one flag from Australia… or was it New Zealand? Gah, it was so hard to tell. Either way, he wanted to make sure that Arthur had a nice _American_ teapot to add to his collection.

“Yes. We’re quite the international family.” Eggnog in hand, Arthur sat down and stretched out on the soft rug in front of his antique fireplace. He glanced up at Alfred and patted the spot next to him. “Enough about them. Tonight is for us.”

Taking the invitation, Alfred plopped down beside his boyfriend. He leaned his back against the base of the antique-looking sofa and sighed in contentment. He sipped his eggnog and wiggled his stocking feet near the fire. After a chilly walk through London, the fire felt marvelous as it warmed his toes. Heat slowly spread through his entire body—possibly because of the large amount of rum Arthur had added to the eggnog. Alfred was pretty sure eggnog wasn’t supposed to have a 1:1 rum ratio, but he wasn’t going to complain. Not when warmth coiled pleasantly at the base of his stomach.

The fire popped and crackled charmingly as Alfred wrapped his arm around Arthur’s shoulders. The Englishman relaxed against his side and let Alfred shoulder most of his weight. The minutes passed in peaceful silence, a calm respite after a hectic week. Alfred glanced down and watched Arthur’s pale blond eyelashes flutter against his cheek. Even in the dim firelight, Alfred could see the dark bags beneath Arthur’s eyes.

“You wanna make it an early night?” Alfred asked, wondering if it would be better to wait until the next day to give Arthur his present.

“No, I’ll be fine,” Arthur said with a yawn. “I’m just knackered from today’s shift.”

“Got another one tomorrow?” Alfred asked after another sip of eggnog.

“No. Christmas is usually pretty quiet. I’ll be putting in my hours during the noisy New Year’s parties.”

“Uh…” Alfred flushed guiltily.

“Your neighbors can complain all they want. I wouldn’t mind a chance to swing by,” Arthur said with a low, throaty chuckle.

“Maybe at the end of your shift,” Alfred suggested.

“Why wait?” Arthur tilted his head upward and they both leaned in for a kiss.

Shifting position, Arthur climbed into Alfred’s lap. He pressed himself against Alfred’s chest and began gently nibbling on Alfred’s lip, sending a jolt of warmth down Alfred’s body that had nothing to do with the fire. Arthur sucked his way down Alfred’s neck, leaving a trail of love marks.

Finding the room warm enough to lose their clothes, Alfred reached for the hem of Arthur’s bright green wool sweater and started to lift it up.

Arthur held out a hand to stop him. “Hold on. I want to fetch your present first.”

“It can wait.” Alfred leaned in for another kiss.

“No.” Arthur pulled out of reach and stood up. “Trust me, you’ll enjoy it now. Let’s just say, I’d like to slip into something _more comfortable_.”

“But what’s comfier than nudity?” Alfred protested.

Arthur sighed. “Look, just… stay there for a few minutes.”

Alfred pouted while Arthur walked out of the living room, leaving him with just his half-drunk eggnog and the roaring fire to keep him warm. He didn’t understand why his boyfriend wanted to change clothes instead of staying with him and continuing their make-out session. If Arthur’s clothes were really that uncomfortable, Alfred was happy to remove them.

The answer came to Alfred a few minutes later when he heard the sound of stocking feet padding towards him. He turned his head to find Arthur wearing a tight red jacket with white fur trim that just barely covered the tops of his thighs. Each hand was covered in a crisp white glove. Knee-high white stockings hugged his calves and extenuated his long, sexy legs. The creamy pale gap of bare skin between the jacket and the thighs looked as enticing as vanilla ice cream. A bright red Santa hat on top of Arthur’s messy blond hair was the cherry on the handsome Christmas sundae. Arthur placed his hands on his hips and posed in his slutty Santa costume.

“Whoa,” Alfred breathed in admiration.

“I thought you’d like it,” the Englishman replied with a seductive grin. “But just so we’re clear: you do know I’m not actually Santa Claus, right?”

Alfred rolled his eyes. “Come on, that was _one_ time.”

“Twice if you count the morning after.”

“Once. The second time I was relying on drunken memories. And my problem was thinking you were in a costume when you weren’t. So I’ll be fine unless the real Santa shows up and I keep insisting that it’s just a guy in a Santa costume.”

Arthur frowned. “You know, it sounds far less stupid when you put it like that.”

“That’s right.” Alfred grinned. “Alfred F. Jones: not as stupid as he seems.” Deciding it was time to focus on more important matters, he curled his finger and gestured for Arthur to come closer to the fire. “So, sexy Santa, mind if I sit in your lap?” the American asked with a wink.

“I think I’d rather sit in yours,” Arthur replied, lowering himself gracefully onto Alfred’s lap. The feel of smooth skin against his jeans confirmed what Alfred suspected. His boyfriend wasn’t wearing any underwear beneath his slutty Santa costume. Arthur wiggled his butt and smirked. “Is that Santa’s little helper or are you just happy to see me?”

Alfred sucked in a breath and his pants tightened. “Santa’s _big_ helper is very happy to see you,” he replied in a husky voice.

“Mmm. According to my list, you’ve been a naughty, naughty boy,” Arthur whispered into Alfred’s ear. “Do you know what happens to naughty boys?”

“They… they get punished,” Alfred replied, swallowing thickly.

“That’s right.” Arthur dangled a pair of fuzzy red handcuffs in front of the American’s face. Alfred’s eyes followed the cuffs hungrily. “And how should I punish you?”

Alfred glanced around the room. “Spank me, Santa. Spank me until my cheeks are red,” he proposed, eyes resting on the dark oak coffee table. “Handcuff me to the table and tell me I’ve been a bad, bad boy.”

“Oh, my.” Arthur flushed, aroused by the detailed description. His own cock throbbed in anticipation. He crawled out of Alfred’s lap and waited for the American to bend forward onto his knees. Eying the thick bulge between Alfred’s legs, he moved on hands and knees to the spot behind Alfred. “Nice package, mind if I unwrap it?” Arthur asked playfully.

“All yours.” Despite the warm fire, Alfred sucked in a breath at the shock of cold air as Arthur unzipped his pants and quickly pulled them to his knees.

Testing the limits, Arthur swatted the American’s buttocks experimentally a few times. Beneath the soft skin was a layer of strong muscle. Arthur spanked him again, harder this time. The slap sent a jolt of electricity down Alfred’s spine. Pain and pleasure heightened his anticipation and ignited the fire in his veins.

“More, harder!” Alfred demanded.

“Naughty, naughty boy.” Arthur spanked him again and again until Alfred’s buttcheeks were bright red. “You deserve to be punished.” He pulled off one white glove and used it to swat Alfred’s exposed rump. “Bad… boys… get… _spanked_ ,” he added, emphasizing each word with another slap. “So bad, so naughty, so _nnnffhh_.” By the time he finished, they were both breathing heavily, drowning out the sounds of the crackling fire. After a good hard slap, Arthur gently caressed Alfred’s ass with his white glove, earning a softer moan.

“Nnnh. I’ll never learn my lesson if that’s all you got,” Alfred teased once he caught his breath. He rolled onto his back and grinned up at Arthur.

“You’re right.” Arthur crawled on top of Alfred and locked lips. He used the distraction of the kiss to pull Alfred’s hands over his head and handcuff them to the leg of the nearby coffee table. “You need to learn that if you steal a cop’s handcuffs, he’ll use them on you.”

“Yeah? What if I give him this nice, thick baton?” Alfred slyly replied. He rocked his hips upward and tried to lift his butt off the floor with Arthur still straddling his hips.

Arthur plucked Alfred’s glasses from his face and set them onto the coffee table. Still painfully hard, he crawled over to the left side and grabbed a pillow from the sofa and slipped it beneath Alfred’s hips. “Now where did I put the lube?” Arthur wondered aloud. He tried to stifle a yawn and gave Alfred an apologetic smile. “Sorry, I should have thought of it earlier.”

“Maybe you should open _your_ present,” Alfred suggested with a cheeky grin. He gestured his head toward the red gift beneath Arthur’s small tree, somewhat hampered by the handcuffs binding him to the leg of the coffee table. Despite the limited mobility, his spot had one plus: an excellent view once Arthur stood above him and reached for the present. From below, he could see the way the Brit’s erect cock pressed against the jacket’s white fur trim. The idea of a Santa panty shot had never seemed more arousing in his life.

“I wonder what it could be,” Arthur deadpanned as he carefully unwrapped the gift.

“I knew your stockings wouldn’t be the only thing getting stuffed.”

“Very punny,” Arthur said with a yawn as he lifted a seasonal lube assortment out of the box and glanced down at the flavors. “So would you prefer Peppermint Pussy, Cinnamon Cock, or Gingerbread Gigolo?”

“Gingerbread, gingerbread!” Alfred shouted loud enough to wake the neighbors. Hopefully they would assume that the boys downstairs were just making cookies.

After squirting a generous dollop into his hand, Arthur bent down next to the fireplace and held out his hands to warm the lube next. As he leaned forward, the Santa jacket rode up around his waist, giving Alfred another great view of Arthur’s delectable ass. He wasn’t sure if Arthur was aware of how much he was exposing from behind.

Alfred sighed, sad that his arms were chained to the coffee table when his boyfriend’s pert bum was in easy reach. At least he still had a good view. “You know, I love your nuts roasting by an open fire,” he said slyly.

Arthur glanced over his shoulder with an aroused look. “Do you like this?” he asked, sticking his own finger up his ass as he stretched his entrance. His eyes fluttered shut and his jaw hung open, moan after moan emerging from his mouth as he fingered himself, adding another finger and another. Alfred swallowed thickly, wishing it were his fingers hitting Arthur’s prostrate again and again as the Englishman flushed and swayed.

“I… I think I’m ready,” Arthur gasped out, trying desperately to maintain control. He climbed back to his feet and walked somewhat unsteadily to the spot between Alfred’s spread legs. He bent down and spread the last of the lube on Alfred’s erect cock.

“Ready to slide down my chimney?” Alfred asked with a cocky grin.

Not bothering to reply, Arthur straddled Alfred’s hips and lowered himself gently onto the thick, warm cock. He flushed and breathed deeply, eyes fluttering shut. A thin sheen of sweat created by the combination of the fire and exertion coated his pale skin.

Writhing against his handcuffs, Alfred arched upward in pure ecstasy. “Oh, god!”

“Ooh.” Arthur moaned. He lifted himself up and down, tight walls straining to take in his boyfriend’s big cock. The thick cock filled him completely, setting every nerve on fire. All pain was forgotten a moment later as it struck his prostrate dead on. “Oh… Alfred!”

Straining against the cuffs, Alfred arched his hips to thrust his cock into Arthur even deeper. He lost himself to the mindless pleasure of thrusting deeper and deeper as his boyfriend screamed his name. Alfred picked up the pace and Arthur increased the volume, shouting his pleasure to the ceiling with each thrust.

They came together in a glorious cacophony of moans and pleasure-filled cries. Arthur let himself collapse onto the rug in a boneless heap next to Alfred. For his part, the American lay still and panted heavily as he caught his breath.

“That was… _amazing_ ,” Alfred gasped between breaths.

“Mmm,” Arthur agreed, eyes fluttering shut in a satiated haze.

“Hey.” Alfred wiggled closer to Arthur and nudged the Brit with his hip. “No falling asleep until you’ve uncuffed me.”

“I don’t think that’s even a word,” Arthur murmured drowsily.

“What, are you the language police now?” Alfred tossed one leg across Arthur’s thighs. “Either way. You’re not moving until I do.”

“Okay.” Arthur yawned and made no effort to move. He was quite comfortable sprawled out on the rug in front of the fire with his furry red Santa jacket hiked up around his waist, exposing his softening cock. The warmth seeped into his skin, relaxing him further. “They have a safety release on the side, you know,” he added with another yawn.

“Oh.” Alfred wriggled his fingers along the edge of the handcuffs and found a small button. He unlocked the left cuff first and then easily undid the right one. Tossing the furry handcuffs aside, he pulled his pants up from around his knees, then rolled over and wrapped his arms around his boyfriend. Arthur curled up against him and sighed contentedly.

Seconds later, the sound of a ringing phone jolted them both out of their peaceful reverie.

Alfred snuggled closer. “Ignore it.”

“I can’t. That’s my work phone.” Regretfully leaving the warmth of his boyfriend and the fire, Arthur climbed to his feet and hurried to fetch his phone from his work bag before it finished ringing. “Arthur here,” he answered. He listened for a moment and added, “Yes, I’m home.”

Alfred couldn’t hear the voice on the other end of the line, but as the conversation continued, he could see Arthur’s cheeks flush red with humiliation.

“Oh. Oh, I see. Yes, I understand. No, it won’t happen again, sir.” Cheeks stained a bright red, Arthur returned the phone to his bag. He took a few steps further and plopped down on the sofa next to the fire, giving Alfred a sheepish look. “Apparently my neighbors called in with a noise complaint about _me_.”

Alfred whistled. “Now look who’s being the naughty one.”

“Well, _you’re_ the reason I was screaming in pleasure.”

“Damn straight I was!” Alfred replied with a proud grin.

Flushing an even brighter red, Arthur reached out a hand to Alfred and helped pull him to his feet. “Come on. The bedroom is further away from the neighbors.” He turned off the gas to the fire and they walked hand-in-hand out of the dimly lit room.

Once in the bedroom, Alfred spotted the furry red trousers that _should_ have gone with Arthur’s Santa outfit and grinned. If Santa was going to ‘punish’ the naughty, well, two could play at that game. He held back and stripped off his clothes as Arthur plopped down onto the bed. By the time Alfred finished undressing, he could already hear snoring. Exhausted from his earlier shift, Arthur had fallen asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

Smiling fondly, Alfred lifted the Santa hat off Arthur’s head and tucked him beneath the blankets. Before he joined his boyfriend, however, he went back to the living room to gather the rest of his supplies for Arthur’s Christmas morning surprise…

* * *

Arthur woke up feeling relaxed and refreshed. He stretched his arms over his head. On that peaceful Christmas morning, it took him a few moments to realize something was missing. The other side of the bed was cold and empty when it was supposed to be filled with a handsome, sleeping American. Arthur sat up and glanced around in confusion. He’d only made it a few steps away from the bed before Alfred stepped into the bedroom and posed in the doorway with a bright smile on his face. He wore red Santa pants with white furry trim that fit snugly around his waist. Above them, a thin line of golden hair led to an amazing tanned six-pack. With a Santa hat covering his golden hair, Alfred swung the pair of furry red handcuffs around his finger and smirked at Arthur. “About time, sleepyhead. I’ve been waiting to give you your present.”

“Is the present your penis?”

“ _Maybe_.” Alfred grinned and strode over to Arthur’s side. “But I don’t know if I should give it to you yet. I heard you were a naughty boy last night.”

A thrill ran up Arthur’s spine as he caught the gleam in Alfred’s eyes. More visions of handcuffs and spankings danced in his head. “Do your worst, Santa,” he dared.

Alfred wrapped his arms around Arthur and dipped him, smooching his boyfriend breathless until the Englishman’s knees almost buckled from the demanding kiss. Pulling Arthur back to his feet in a dizzying motion, Alfred let Arthur sprawl against his chest and moved backwards until his knees pressed against the bed. He sat down and tugged Arthur over his knees. As Arthur fell forward, the Santa jacket he was still wearing from the night before hiked up around his waist, exposing his pale, pert buttocks. With Arthur still dazed and distracted, Alfred pulled the Brit’s arms behind his back and locked them together with the furry handcuffs.

“Oooh,” Arthur moaned, dropping his head and wiggling forward until his ass stuck straight up into the air.

Alfred stroked his boyfriend’s beautiful ass and then gave it a good, hard smack. Arthur grunted in pleasure and he repeated the motion, aiming from the sensitive spot where Arthur’s buttocks met the top of his thighs. Arthur gasped and then sighed in bliss. With tender strokes, Alfred caressed his lover’s ass. It felt so nice. So soft and smooth. He hit it again, enjoying the way Arthur’s butt began turning as bright red as his embarrassed cheeks.

“With a butt this red, I’d never have trouble finding my way,” Alfred teased. He felt Arthur’s hardening cock press against his thighs, proving that his boyfriend was loving every moment of the playful punishment.

“Get on with it!” Arthur demanded, still as commanding as ever despite the fact that he was handcuffed and bent over Alfred’s knees.

Alfred hefted his boyfriend off his knees and tossed him onto the bed. He landed half-on, half-off, his legs dangling over the side, showing off his tight, white stockings that he still wore from the night before. Alfred slipped a pillow beneath Arthur’s head and then grabbed the peppermint lube from the nightstand where he had left it after Arthur fell asleep. He warmed the lube in his hands by rubbing them together and took the moment to admire Arthur’s delightful bum and long, luscious legs.

“You have the right to remain silent as I fuck you speechless,” Alfred said, slipping a slick finger into Arthur’s exposed ass and drawing an eager groan from the smaller man. After the night before, his finger slipped in with little resistance. “Anything you say is going to turn into a breathless moan.” He moved the finger back and forth and added another. “You have the right to lots and lots of lube. If you don’t have lube, lube will be provided to you.”

With his face still pressed into the pillow, Arthur snorted, a sound that turned into a cry of pleasure as Alfred added a third finger and hit Arthur’s prostrate.

Alfred grinned and used the last of the lube on his hard cock. At the first thrust, Arthur cried out in pleasure, voice muffled by the pillow. Alfred thrust back and forth; his cock throbbed within the tight, warm walls as Arthur gasped and quivered with delight. Pace growing ragged as he came close to orgasming himself, Alfred hit his lover’s prostrate again and again, sending Arthur to dizzying new heights of pleasure. With a final, muffled scream, Arthur came into the sheets. Riding a blissful high, Alfred delivered his present down Arthur’s chimney. He moaned in blissful release and flopped down beside his satiated boyfriend.

After a few seconds, Alfred popped off the handcuffs and helped his boyfriend move to a more comfortable position. Each still wearing half of a Santa suit, they spooned together on the bed, relaxing as they caught their breath.

Alfred buried his face into Arthur’s soft hair and smiled. “You know, I think we should do this every holiday.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy holidays, everyone! I hope you get all the fluff and smut that your heart desires :)


End file.
